Preying on You Tonight
by It-is-I-a-Simple-Bagel
Summary: Do mutants of a feather flock together? Perhaps. Especially if one of those mutants harbors a bit of an obsession for Cassidy. [The Cassidy Jones Series by Elise Stokes]


**[A story for one of my favorite series ever, _The Cassidy Jones Adventures_.]**

**It's from the point of view of an original character, but 'Cassidy &amp; Friends' do make their debut as well. I hope you stick around till that part, dear reader. ;) **

**This is a bit of an odd one, but I hope it is entertaining. Or tolerable, at the very least. Lol. **

** So, without further ado...**

* * *

The air in the motel room was musty and distorted with flecks of dirt that had seeped through the cracks of the window above a broken radiator. It didn't matter, though. The cool Spring weather kept the tiny residence from becoming an oven. Heat would surely ruin his precious camera film, and that just wouldn't do.

The room was dirty and in shambles. Two stained mattresses piled atop one another occupied a corner, a small, shabby fridge vibrated nearby, and a lopsided dresser missing one drawer leaned unsteadily against it. The only other furniture gracing the apartment was a stolen lawn chair and a desk made of duct taped cardboard boxes. The flooring was just painted concrete, the chipped yellow toilet in the bathroom didn't flush, and the water that poured from the faucet and shower was nearly brown. But it didn't matter, because it was his home now. A big improvement from the last one, and there was no one to bother him. No one to stab and poke and cut him with tools until he screamed. Yes, his new home was very nice.

He hadn't had any money when he'd arrived, but picking the furthest room from the check-in office and killing the stumbling drunk that slept inside had freed a space for him. The heroin addict at the front desk hadn't pestered him after that. No one did. And no one _cared_, around these parts.

Even if you were a repulsive, hairy beast.

His thick, dark fingernails were in need of cutting again, but he was much too eager to hang his latest photographs to pay it any mind. He handled the pictures delicately, as he pinned each of them to vacant spots on the peeling wallpaper above his desk. The 130th, 131st, and 133rd additions now decorated the space proudly. Standing back and admiring his handiwork, he couldn't help but marvel at her perfection.

Flawless, porcelain skin the color of cream, big, jade eyes fringed with inky lashes, and the longest, silkiest, reddest hair he'd ever seen. She was like a goddess, gracing the mortal realm with her radiant presence. He could stare at her for hours.

And with his extensive collage, he could look whenever he pleased. She was the subject of every single one of them, after all. Though, she rarely completely faced the camera. He frowned at this. If only she was the kind of girl to post numerous pictures of herself online every day. He wanted a proper closeup for his collection.

Then again, he didn't want to share her beauty with the whole world. He hated the idea of anyone else amassing images of her. She was _his_ pretty little secret.

It had taken months to put together such a vast assortment. That wall of the motel room was completely dedicated to her. Pictures of her in the morning, pictures of her after school, pictures of her out at night; he felt like he knew everything about her. It was such a very comforting feeling, for someone so alone.

She was smiling- _always _smiling- in her photos. She looked so happy, it was no wonder that everyone liked her. What wasn't to like? And those who didn't adore her were clearly jealous, in his opinion. She had no match. No other girl could even hope to compare.

She wasn't some ordinary, dull creature like all the others at her school. No, _she _was special. She was extraordinary. And she was exactly like him- but wonderful and beautiful, and perfect in every possible way. He loved her so much it hurt.

He could still recall the very first time she'd spoken to him, years and years ago. He'd just been a scrawny, pale thing with a hunch and an inhaler. In other words, shark bait in a pool of callous, second grade predators.

He'd always been small for his age, with stringy blond hair and watery blue eyes, half-blind without the over-sized glasses that always slid comically down his nose during conversations. His lisp, overbite, and overall nerdy appearance earned him the titles "Donald Duck" and "Dorky Donny" within his first few weeks in public school. He'd been miserable and friendless; hopeless and terrified of his own shadow.

Then _she_ came into his life, like a glowing angel with hair the color of a firework.

* * *

He'd been scrambling on the cold, tile floor of the elementary school's cafeteria, desperately trying to grab his cracked glasses and intercept the inhaler that a group of boys were delighting in tossing over his head like a football. He'd always _hated _that game. It required coordination, strength, and speed- three things he certainly did not possess.

He had just been frantic to get the glasses back on his face, so he could at least _see_ his harassers. He hadn't been worried much about their "Dorky Donny" taunts and laughter at the time. Not even the teachers paid any attention to the bullying he was constantly subjected to. "Boys will be boys" appeared to be their mindset.

But _she'd_ cared.

Shoving her way between the rowdy boys, she'd pushed them aside and snatched the inhaler from the tallest one.

"Pick on somebody your own size, Dixon! Now go away before I get the teacher!"

The mean boy had scowled at her and stuck out his tongue, stomping off with his noisy followers behind him. She wrinkled her freckled nose at their retreating backs and dusted off Donny's inhaler, like it was covered in cooties.

"Lemme help you." She said, grasping his bony fingers with her soft ones and pulling him to his feet. He turned ten shades of red at the contact. "You're bleeding!" She cried, carefully holding his palm up to the light.

If he was, he certainly didn't feel it. All Donny had been aware of was her warm hand holding his. But, after her close inspection, he noticed a couple scrapes, where one of the boys' shoes had nicked him. It really didn't hurt, and he didn't want to look any weaker in front of her than he already did.

"I'm okay."

Her red eyebrows scrunched in disapproval. "No, you need a band-aid. I'll take you to Nurse Hattie!" She declared, putting her hands on his narrow shoulders and forcibly propelling him to the hallway.

"O-okay." Had been his clever reply. He was all too aware of her fluffy curls and strawberry scented chap-stick to put up a fight.

Once directed down the hall, she let him walk on his own. He did his very best to keep up with her naturally brisk pace.

"You shouldn't let them always push you around like that." She'd informed him in a very motherly tone. He blushed at once. She noticed them picking on him all the other times too?

"Alright?" She continued, "If you fought back, I bet they'd leave you alone."

He blinked at her incredulously. Fight back? Did she not see his hunch and noodle arms?

"It's not fair to treat you like that, just 'cause you're not as big." She supplied, like he needed to understand her reasoning.

He didn't know what to say to that, so he only nodded.

"Good." She smiled at him widely, and he felt his skin turn scarlet, all the way to the roots of his hair. It made her skin glow and green eyes sparkle. He'd never seen anyone so pretty; not even on TV. His heart pounded as he tried to turn his mouth up into a passable grin too.

Her eyes lit up. "I've never seen you smile before, Donny! You should do it more! I like your dimples."

He thought he was going to pass out. _She knows my name!_

"Alright, here we are!" She interrupted his jubilant thoughts, opening up the big, white door to the Nurse's Office. "Tell her what happened, too. Dixon deserves to get in trouble. He's such a meanie."

Donny felt crushing disappointment when he realized that she was going to leave him. He didn't want her to go. He didn't ever want to be parted from her again! But, as always, all he managed was a dopey, "O-okay."

"Awesomesauce. See you later!" She chirped, twirling back down the hallway in her purple high tops.

_Come back! Don't go! Please don't go! _He'd yelled in his head, but, of course, he hadn't been able to voice it. He never could.

Before she disappeared from sight, she'd turned around and waved to get his attention- as if he'd take his eyes off her for a _second. _"I'm Cassidy, by the way!" She waved cheerfully once more, and then she was gone.

_Cassidy_…

* * *

Thus, began his first crush. His only crush. A three and a half year crush involving a lot of pining and one-sidedness that he could blame on no one but himself. No, he could never fault her for his own cowardice. It was his fault for never getting the guts to speak to her again after that. The most courageous thing he'd managed was an awkward smile anytime she graced him with eye contact. She was the highlight of his days in school. Being "Donald Duck" didn't seem so bad whenever he got to be with her every week. He dreaded summer vacations, when he rarely caught a glimpse of her for months. And it was the summer before sixth grade that he'd finally made a resolution. He would lose the glasses, the hunch, the inhaler- everything- and remake himself. He would learn to be cool and confident, and he would talk to Cassidy Jones like he was any other guy. She would see how much he cared and she would be his friend. That was all he ever wanted.

Unfortunately, his carefully constructed plans fell through the day his father shoved open his bedroom door and told him to pack his bags and wait in the truck outside.

He'd been confused and angry, but his huge, Ukrainian father boxed his ears and harshly informed him that he'd do as he was told. And Donny did. He packed up everything he could fit into his backpack and a duffel bag and loaded it into their old Chevy. He never set foot in the rundown apartment again.

As it turned out, his dad, Alek Volkova, had quit his security job at the nearby pawn shop because he'd acquired better employment elsewhere. _Elsewhere _being almost two hundred miles away from Seattle. Donny could barely contain his bitterness and frustration at the sudden move. His father could have at least_ told_ him, before dragging him away from the only home he'd ever known. Then again, Alek had never been one to take his son's feelings into account.

All Donny could think, as they passed the city limits and continued on, was that he wouldn't ever see Cassidy again. It had crushed him.

They drove for several days, only stopping for gas fill-ups and shady hotel rooms, before reaching their destination. Some cramped town in the middle of nowhere, with a tiny upper class, nonexistent middle class, and a village of dirt-poor miners. Donny was convinced they'd be crashing in a raggedy shack that was at least two steps down from the crappy apartment they'd left behind, but he'd been very wrong.

He hadn't been able to contain his shock when his father parked their beat up truck outside a generously-sized, sparkly white apartment complex; horribly out of place in the dingy, lopsided town.

"What?" Alek had asked in his gruff bellow, "You think your тато can't provide for you? You think this is joke?"

Donny winced and carefully placed the duffel bag over his shoulder. "No, тато. It's just… very nice." He leapt out of the truck and onto the hard, dirt ground before his dad could get pissed off.

"Yes, it's _very nice_." Alek replied in his mocking, accented baritone. "I told you I get good job. Show some gratitude. I was already out on streets of Kyiv when I was your age." The older man stepped down from the truck and slammed the door shut behind him, tossing a bag over his wide shoulders.

"I know, тато…" Donny murmured, not wanting to risk getting whacked in the head for giving his temperamental father 'cheek'.

It didn't take long for them to get settled, but Donny certainly felt out of place in the modern, pristine apartment. They had hundreds of TV channels, as well as WiFi; two things they often did without back in Washington. He was enrolled in online schooling on the computer, and the complex even had its own swimming pool. Still, Donny knew something wasn't right.

The other members of the shiny, gated community all looked like they hailed from somewhere else. Prim, sciencey-looking people and behemoths occupied the adjacent apartments. Some had accents, while others were just clearly foreign. Why would such characters move to a complex in a tiny, hick town?

Weird neighbors aside, the odd noises at night topped it all. At the west end of the minuscule town, there lied an enormous, fenced-in facility painted in what looked like every shade of white and gray known to man. Donny wasn't sure if it was a factory or what, but he _did _know that a lot of armored vehicles entered and left the premises at night, and half the time it sounded like they were setting off bombs or something. Yet, _no one_ talked about it. He knew for sure that everybody in the apartment complex was employed there, including his father.

So, what the heck?

He'd wanted answers. He wanted to know if he was living a mile away from some nuclear testing facility and was going to die of radiation poisoning. It was a valid concern, in his opinion.

However, his father clearly did _not _agree, judging by the black eye Donny received for demanding an explanation.

"You will keep eyes turned and mouth shut, yes?" Was all Alek had said, shoving his son away and lumbering crossly out the door for his five a.m. shift. Donny didn't answer him.

It wasn't until eight in the morning that he realized he'd forgotten to make his father's lunch and put it in the glove compartment of the truck. He'd learned from experience that a hungry Alek was a pissed off Alek, and saw it as a perfect opportunity to finally see what went on inside that big white building. Donny quickly slapped together two ham sandwiches and a bag of chips, stuffing it into the large pocket of his sweatshirt and sneaking outside, into the unlocked trunk of their neighbor's GMC.

The man was enormous, Italian, and not the sharpest tool in the box. Donny knew that when Gio left for his 9 o'clock shift, he wouldn't check his trunk, and he certainly wouldn't notice an undersized boy hiding under the gray tarp stored there.

Nervous anticipation had filled him as the big car pulled out of the complex and rolled towards the facility. Donny was almost shocked that he wasn't discovered, and even more shocked that he managed to enter the huge building without being seen. The security was more lax than he anticipated.

The corridor he cautiously traipsed through felt nearly abandoned, and Donny was beginning to see the imprudence of his trip. How did he expect to even _find _his dad in a place so big? What was he going to do if he got caught? Would his father be fired? He couldn't imagine what Alek would do to him if _that_ happened.

The sense of foreboding only grew stronger the further he ventured. There were constant, echoing noises that he couldn't make out. The sounds of machinery and heaven knew what else bounced erratically off the high, bone-white walls. Donny found himself tiptoeing, even though there wasn't another soul in sight.

When he'd finally convinced himself it was high time to turn around and get home before he really regretted the outing, the banging started. It was loud, erratic, and much too close for his taste, yet the burning curiosity began to reassemble itself. The racket was coming from the end of the hall, on the right side, if his hearing wasn't out of commission from all the machinery.

He, logically, still hesitated, until the bangs were suddenly accompanied with perfectly timed, animalistic screams. Inhuman screams that should've made him run in the other direction- _fast_. But it seemed that he'd completely lost his mind that morning, because not a thing he'd decided to do thus far was sane.

Donny hurried down the corridor, hugging the wall until he came upon a wide doorway. The room beyond it was dim, spotless, and seemingly vacant. The walls were constructed of different metal panels. The floor was concrete and so shiny, he could see his reflection. Besides having a remarkably talented cleaning lady, he didn't see a thing odd about the area; that is, until a long, hairy arm shot from a slot in the wall and began scraping madly at the silver paneling.

"Ah!" Donny yelped, throwing himself backwards. The animalistic scream began once more, escaping the same slot as the big arm. His heart pounded as he watched the creature bang and scrape the wall wildly. His feet moved of their own accord as he found himself edging towards the beast. What was he doing? He really didn't know anymore.

He couldn't breathe as the animal's face came into view. It was a chimpanzee! Its creased face, dark eyes, and big, chipped yellow teeth bobbed slowly up and down, assessing him. The creature was hunched over, gruesomely scarred, and missing patches of hair. In other words, hideous and utterly terrifying. What was such an animal doing in a place like _this_? Only one thing came to mind as Donny stared into the ape's cagey brown eyes.

_Animal testing. _

Despite his fear of the chimp, its size, and ugliness, Donny felt an overwhelming surge of pity for it. So this was what they did? Torture animals? What kind of twisted people did his father work for?

If he'd truly known _how_ twisted, in that moment, Donny would have done things differently. If he'd known what he was really dealing with, he wouldn't have set foot outside of their apartment. But, ironically, hindsight _is_ 20/20.

If he'd known who owned the facility and what sort of things that person was capable of, Donny never would have slid his hand over the wall-cage's latch, he wouldn't have turned the lever, and he certainly wouldn't have pulled that door open.

Perhaps, if he'd recalled any of the Animal Planet documentaries he watched for hours in their cramped Seattle home, he'd have remembered that chimpanzees were strong, violent, and very _dangerous._

He understood the idea perfectly well, though, when the ape slammed the door open wide, threw itself forward, and tackled him to the ground. He didn't know who was screaming louder at that point; him or the beast. The animal pounded its chest with a dark, wrinkled fist and used the other to grab Donny around the neck and throw him out of the room. The euphoric feeling of soaring through the air was quickly replaced by the stinging pain of broken bones. He tumbled several times as he skidded into the wide hallway, rolling roughly into the wall on the opposite side.

The chimp screamed once more, its scarred face terrifying through Donny's shattered glasses. The animal rushed across the room, ripping panels from the walls, revealing hundreds of dials and blinking monitors. An earsplitting alarm pierced the air, which only fueled the ape's rampage. The dim lights flashed red in time to the blaring sound, making the creature throw its long arms into the air, waving them around, like it was challenging whoever was behind the deafening noise.

The beast must have gotten its wish, because Donny heard heavy, marching footsteps approaching the corridor. He couldn't bring himself to panic or try to crawl away. He was numb all over, his head spun with dizziness, and he couldn't feel a thing. Why try to run?

The chimpanzee obviously heard the marching as well, because it ripped up an entire bar from the inside of its cage and wielded it like a spear, charging into the hall with the weapon.

Donny did his best to edge as far as he could from the creature, but to little avail. It didn't matter, though, because the ape clearly saw him as defeated and nonthreatening; both very true.

Within seconds, large men with equally big weapons swarmed into the corridor, engaging the chimpanzee with gunfire. Donny was stunned to see the ape fighting back, the bullets and darts hardly fazing it. The animal struck and impaled many of these assailants, showing more coordination and accuracy than he had ever thought primates capable of.

Donny's chest heaved and lungs tightened; he needed his inhaler, which had stupidly been left in the drawer of his nightstand back at the apartment. The awful, thunderous sound of gunshots made his ears ring. The ape's screams added to the chaos. The anarchy seemed endless, until a very jarring pop echoed through the hallway, followed by a squealing sound that he usually associated with a firework being set off.

It wasn't until the chimpanzee shrieked and collapsed that Donny realized what it was. Several yards away, an older man stood, with a silver-colored gun in his gloved hands. It was curved oddly and had a long, narrow barrel that shone brightly under the flashing, red lights. A trail of smoke rose from the hole at the end.

Donny's eyes slowly trailed up from the gun to the person holding it.

He did not look like the sort of man to fire a weapon, but more like one that would have private islands for his servants alone and own half the theatre boxes in an opera house. The man wore a swanky, floor length coat with dapper white gloves, long, pointy dress shoes, and a tie that might have been made out of real gold. There wasn't a strand out of place in his silver hair, and his aristocratic face showed not a single emotion in light of what he'd just done. The coldness in his harsh, steel-colored eyes made Donny want to hide himself, somehow.

A sigh escaped the man's thin mouth as he surveyed the damage around him. "If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself." He lamented, stepping over the leg of a bleeding guard sprawled out on the floor.

He turned to the remaining armed men and gestured to the limp chimpanzee on the ground. "Get that thing out of my sight. It should have known not to bite that hand that feeds it."

The leader of the men stepped forward and kept his gun trained on the motionless ape. "What do we do with him, Monsieur King?" He questioned through a thick, French accent.

'Monsieur King' clasped his hands behind his back, eyeing the animal with distaste. "The _incinerator_, Jacques. One would think you'd know that by now." He replied with an exasperated eye roll.

"Oui monsieur." Jacques nodded, signaling to his cohorts, who circled the beast cautiously and began binding him with intricate, metal cuffs. "And our fallen men?" He continued, sounding less sure.

Monsieur King barely spared a glance at their still forms. "The same."

If this response shocked Jacques in any way, he certainly didn't show it, as he removed a walkie-talkie from his belt and barked some orders into it in his native language.

Donny paled as he saw the silver-haired man turn in his direction and approach casually. Panic and hysteria ebbed in as his steely eyes became level with Donny's watering blue ones.

"And what do we have here?" The cold eyes flicked over his numb, helpless body. "The reason for my best donor's untimely demise, I presume?"

If Monsieur King expected a response, he wouldn't be getting anything out of Donny's frozen face.

"Well, I suppose I'll have to deal with this personally." The man observed, rolling Donny onto his back. He felt the broken bones shift unnaturally in his body and knew he should be screaming… but it still didn't hurt. Why didn't it hurt?

Before he could even ponder this, though, the older man indifferently lifted his silver gun over Donny's temple and struck him sharply. The world went black.

* * *

He didn't know how long he'd been unconscious, nor where he'd been taken, but when Donny finally managed to peel open his eyelids again, he was greeted with the calculating face of his attacker and the impassive one of his father. The sight sent terror and apprehension through his shattered bones.

His sight was marred terribly, due to his missing glasses, but he could see enough. Monsieur King gave him a chilling, false smile, before turning to Alek. "It seems your delinquent is awake. Anything you would like him to know before we begin?"

Donny's eyes darted to his father, as he desperately tried to move and make words come out of his mouth. _I didn't mean to do it! It was an accident! I'm sorry!__I'm so sorry,_ тато_!_ They wouldn't come, despite his efforts.

Alek's ran his gaze over Donny. He could see the disappointment and dissatisfaction in his dad's stare. His stomach twisted with anxiety and dread.

"Because of your disobedience, you are paralyzed from neck down. Your spinal cord is _broken._ You know what that mean, son? You are _cripple_." Under Alek's thick accent, his anger and outrage rang clear.

Donny would have given anything to be invisible in that moment. Despite his smallness, his hunch, and his poor breathing and vision, his father had tolerated him with a sense of duty. It was more than obvious how the man felt now. Alek was disgusted and ashamed of his 'cripple' son. Donny wished he could have died, rather than face his dad's unabashed contempt.

"In my country, cripples beg on street. I did not raise useless beggar!" His father shouted, fury getting the better of him.

The cold-eyed man moved closer and shone a blinding light in Donny's eyes. "There's no need worry about that _here_, Mr. Volkova_. _Your Donald will be contributing to the bettering of mankind as a whole. His service will be well appreciated."

Confusion overwhelmed Donny. What did that mean? He frantically looked around the room; a difficult feat when he couldn't even move his neck. The walls and floors were sterile and white. Tools and equipment were everywhere he looked. From the corner of his eye, he could see that his wrists and ankles were held tightly to the table underneath him with cold, black cuffs. Icy fear rushed into his stomach, as his eyes shot pleadingly to his father's.

_Please, Dad. Help me, please. Don't let anything happen to me. Please, _тато. The words repeated frenziedly in his head like a sacred mantra.

Alek wouldn't meet his gaze, staring at the wall behind him instead. "They will make you strong." were his final words to Donny. The last thing his own father ever said to him. It was a crushing, fatal blow.

"Indeed." Monsieur King commented, adjusting the restraints on Donny's wrists and replacing his pristine white gloves for surgical ones. "Don't look so glum. We will fix you, have no doubt of that."

The words, coming from his mouth, only instilled terror inside Donny. And rightly so. The dark gleam in the man's steely eyes greatly contradicted the tiny, little encouraging smile on his face. Donny looked on in horror as his father turned his back on him and left the sterile room without a second look. He tried to call out for him. To beg and plead and cry; all things that Alek detested. But he couldn't.

Instead of his father racing back into the room, a small group of masked men and women in lab coats entered. They were of all races and ages, solemn and wordless as they approached the table. From the parts of their faces he could see, many of his neighbors were present. Donny couldn't breathe. He felt like he was going to suffocate. This couldn't be happening. He was dreaming. This was a nightmare.

And it was, but _he_, unfortunately, was very much awake.

The masked people circled around him, looking to King for further instruction.

"Give him the gas." Were the man's only words, as he moved behind a wide monitor on the other side of the room.

Words that marked the beginning of Donny's hell.

* * *

It started out simple enough, normal enough. Reconstruction, blood tests, et cetera. But that changed quickly. Over the period of days, weeks, and months, he was sliced open, burned, lost organs and was given someone else's… or _something _else's… injected, tested, and, eventually, put on _the machine._ It was like everything inside of him was torn out and replaced with a mess of darkness and madness. There were times when he didn't know where he was, or _who_ he was. All he knew was pain and hatred.

Oh, yes, they fixed him. He could walk and move around and dance for them like a bloody circus animal. That's what he was. A toy- an animal- for them to poke and stab and test. His rights as a human were forfeited. He wasn't a person, he was an _experiment._ He was kept in a cage, he was fed through a slot in the wall, and any misbehavior was punished as if he were a beast. Three years of such treatment would wear on anyone's sanity. He couldn't be blamed for unraveling. He certainly couldn't be blamed for taking the first chance he was given to break out, no matter what he had to do to those that got in his way.

Fortunately for Donny, they'd _fixed _him a little too well. The changes his body had gone through were agonizing and horrific… inhuman… but _so very _useful in overpowering one's 'caretaker' and crushing the throat of any other technician that tried to intervene. They had never taken pity on him. Why should he treat them with any more mercy?

At the time, he didn't know if he could even escape the facility. He didn't know where he was, or where an exit would be. He only wanted out of his cage, out of his misery, and wanted to take down every one of the lab coat-wearing leeches that made his life hell. It was fortunate that King had not been present when he decided to tear the place apart. Donny would have thoroughly enjoyed tearing the flesh from the bastard's face with his grotesque fingernails. Another time, perhaps.

The chances of making it out were probably infinitesimal, yet there was obviously someone upstairs rooting for him, because he'd caught sight of an emergency exit amidst the yelling and blaring alarms No, he wouldn't be as foolish as his primate predecessor. He was getting out of there, no matter what.

The people- even if they did not deserve such a gracious description- that occupied the facility were far too confident in their own skills of containment. Exiting and entering was no hard feat. Doing so unseen was slightly more difficult, but hardly impossible. With that in mind, he'd ducked quickly into a small room only yards from the sacred, glowing exit sign when he caught a trio of guards' scent. They were jogging and yelling, guns slapping against their backs like heavy book bags. He was sardonically amused at their lack of stealth. How dumb did they think he'd become?

Glancing over his muscled shoulder, he was mildly startled at the sight. The entrance to the small space had blended almost seamlessly into the wall, and the inside was not much larger than a closet. Yet, the contents of this 'closet' were hardly worthless baubles and supplies. Several monitors hung from the walls, all appearing to depict security footage of a place that certainly was not the facility or its surrounding area.

One displayed- what looked like- a school. Another showed several houses in a residential neighborhood… other odd, seemingly random locations were visible. Cars and people moved along like they had no idea they were being watched. Of course they didn't. On the opposite side of the room, a large, detailed map hung, covered in pins and notes that he didn't bother to decipher. The handwriting was a mess of scribbles. What truly caught his attention were the dozens and dozens of photographs hung around and on this map. In this case, the subjects were not so random.

The same three people appeared again and again, with a few different faces added along with them on occasion.

A large, dangerous looking man, a small, messy woman wearing one of the lab coats he'd learned to despise, and a boy with glasses that was a carbon copy of the big fellow. Over and over and over.

He took a step back from the montage of people and glanced at the cracked open door to this surveillance closet. It seemed that King was a stalker, on top of being an evil waste of life. Perhaps this room seemed secret for a reason.

It didn't matter to him. Whatever the madman wanted with these people was hardly his concern. He carefully edged back to the door and inhaled the putrid air around him. The sweating guards were close.

Before he could get a visual of the enemy, a flash of red caught his eye. Briefly shooting his gaze back to the wall of images, he locked onto the source. The air caught painfully in his lungs. In one photo on the edge of the map, alongside the boy with glasses, there was a petite girl with big, jewel-green eyes and hair like fire. He knew that hair. He knew _her._ He knew he did! She was… she was… who was she? Suddenly, he needed to know with a burning passion. The girl- the beautiful girl in the picture- was important. He knew her!

A loud clatter announced the arrival of the guards, and he desperately snatched the picture from the wall, tearing it in two. He tossed the image of the boy to the ground, but held the half depicting _her_ reverently. He needed to know. He needed to remember. He needed to _find_ her.

With that resolve, he shoved the photo into the pocket of the gray pants he'd worn for at least a year, throwing himself out the door. The searching guards evidently had not been expecting such a move, because they all threw themselves backward; one fell completely over the railing of the level they were on, screaming all the way down.

He wasted no time. Lunging at the smaller one, he ripped the walkie-talkie from his hand and crushed it like the pitiful piece of garbage it was. The guard's face displayed pure shock and fear, as he stared back at Donny's disfigured face.

_Yes, be afraid, weak human._ He inwardly hissed, grabbing the coward by his throat and throwing him after his fallen partner. That left only the big guard.

Facing him, Donny's chest did that troublesome tightening thing again. The man's huge stature, grave features, and hard eyes were all too familiar. He was haunted by the image of that same face staring at him apathetically, as he handed him over to the devil. No, the man didn't deserve the title of father. Or of anything.

The man's eyes narrowed on him. Donny couldn't tell if he recognized his own son or not. It hardly mattered now. The gun pointed at his scarred chest was evidence enough that it really didn't matter to Alek, one way or another.

That sign justified Donny's actions after, though justification hardly found a place in his reasoning any longer. Alek Volkova fired a shot, and Donny threw him over the railing, watching him sail at a breakneck speed to the floor. The cracking echo that followed sealed the deed. It was as simple as that.

_Who's weak now, _тато_? Not me._

Donny stepped back from the railing and barely glanced at the bullet hole gracing his shoulder. He immediately headed back towards the surveillance room and slid the door shut. He'd been right; the entrance was nearly invisible to the naked eye. Or, at least, the human eye. He could see the outline clearly. Whatever the purpose of that room _was_, it wasn't common knowledge.

But, it didn't concern him. The only thing that mattered now was getting out, and he did. Yanking open the exit door brought a small stab of pain to his bloody shoulder, but the _pain_, he could handle. He'd had much worse. The exit led to a fire escape and multiple levels of zigzagging, metal stairs. The alarm turned frenzied when he walked through the door. It didn't matter. They wouldn't catch him now. He wouldn't let them.

Walking out into the fresh, hot air made Donny's entire body to violently shudder. He inhaled a quaky breath and stared at his surroundings with squinted eyes. The blinding sunlight pained him. It'd been so long since he'd seen it last. Without a second thought, he dug his gnarled, dark fingers into the wound in his shoulder and tore the bullet out, taking a red chunk of flesh with it. The sight of his own blood hardly affected him now. The hole was already closed and the pain gone.

Donny ran, after that. Across the wide expanse of lifeless dirt, so fast the wind whistled in his ears. He'd never run so far before. It was exhilarating. He vaulted over the electric fence, not even touching the winding wire that was out to tear the flesh from captives' bones. And he kept going. Oh, he heard his pursuers. If they hoped to capture him, they were fools.

He didn't stop at the apartment complex in the rickety old town. Somehow, it didn't look so white or shiny anymore. Everything in that place belonged to the old, helpless Donny. There was nothing for him there.

* * *

He kept running, right out of town, out of the desert, out of the state, and even farther. He kept out of sight in the daytime and rested occasionally at night. But that kind of adrenaline always comes back to bite you. The reality of his escape sank in soon. The reality of what he'd been subjected to sank in, too. The pain, the terror, the hopelessness… the depravity… killing his father… the anger and hatred felt like a force all their own, crushing his lungs and burning his throat. He began shaking and trembling, leaning against the mildewed wall of a tomb on the edge of an ancient looking cemetery.

He was alone. He was a monster. He had no one. No family. No home. No hope. Panic wracked his bones, as he clung to that crumbling wall. What reason did he have to live like this? He was beastly. People would scream at the sight of him. No one would help him. No one would care. Just like they didn't care in that facility from hell. Just like his father hadn't cared. Just like the hateful elementary school kids hadn't cared.

_The elementary school kids… I know this! I know it! _Donny's thoughts became feverish as he reached down and tore the crumbled, torn photo from his ragged pants. _Her._ He desperately wracked his brain as he stared at her serene, smiling face in the picture_. She… she was there! I know her…_

Purple shoes and strawberry scented chap-stick came to mind. Warm smiles and kind words followed...

"_I'm Cassidy, by the way…" _

The memory seared into his brain as he jerked forward. _Cassidy! Yes, that was her!_ The girl he adored in school. The only person who'd ever treated him like he was someone that mattered. He stared at the picture with bated breath. She had the same fiery hair, the same bright eyes, but was even lovelier than he remembered. Of course, someone so good could only become more beautiful, not less.

She… _she _would understand. She would talk to him and smile at him, just like she had back then. He had to find her! He had to get to her. He wanted to be at her side. He_ had_ to be. There was no one else for him. He would do absolutely anything to be with her again.

Thus, Donny spent hours_, days_, forcing himself to recall everything about his previous life He dredged up every available memory, no matter how humiliating or unpleasant. They were all keys to finding Cassidy again. He would endure anything.

He soon remembered what city they'd lived in, which district their old school could be found, the parks she would have played at. It didn't take much to steal a map from a Bed &amp; Breakfast and find his way back to Washington. His thoughts solely encompassed Cassidy. No amount of rain, or snow, or hunger could deter him.

He took dark, baggy clothes off clothes lines in some rural area on his way. A hooded sweatshirt covered his most unnatural features. That was the magic of hoods, he supposed. Slip one over your head, and you become invisible to the world around you.

It took weeks to get to the city. It took days to find his way back to their old area. Some people had given him trouble, but a swift choke had put an end to those problems. He had a new purpose in life, and that was searching for the most perfect girl in the city, like a knight running after a beloved princess. That's what she was like, after all... a princess.

But he was no Prince Charming; something he knew too well each time he looked into a reflective surface. It didn't matter! His princess would accept him. She was too good to pay his appearance any mind. She wasn't like other girls.

It had been thrilling to realize how true those words really were.

The first time he'd seen her, just walking home from school, it had been nearly impossible to contain himself. She was even prettier up close. Cassidy walked at a relaxed pace, satchel bag swinging lazily from her shoulder, and long hair blowing around wildly in the afternoon breeze. A pack of other kids ambled ahead of her, but he barely noticed them. They were just background noise to her symphony. He bet she smelled as good as she looked… he inhaled and savored the scent.

Strawberries and vanilla and… something else.

_Very _something else.

She must have thought the same thing, because her perfect little nose twitched and her wide eyes narrowed suspiciously. He watched her gaze discreetly travel across the street and over the area. She was following his scent! She could smell him!

And he could smell_ it_. What she was. That feral, inhuman fragrance wafted off of her like fine perfume. Donny shivered in anticipation. Somehow, some way, Cassidy was just like him. She was of his kind! Different than others. Hidden from the world. He thought he loved her before, but, drawing in her aroma like it was his last breath, Donny _knew._ Cassidy was his soul mate. He belonged to her, and she belonged to him. She would love him and understand him like no one else could.

He would _never _let her go.

He ran from her that day. No, he wasn't brave enough to meet her then. Even though he was far, far from the street, she still warily glanced over her shoulder all the way home. He didn't mind it. She was _aware_ of him. She knew he was there, and, soon, she would know him in every possible way.

That day, Donny had regained his once shattered hopes. His love and motivation drove him. No matter the day, the hour, the weather, he would watch her. He hid his scent at times. At others, he'd let her smell him. He wanted her to know he was with her.

* * *

Now, here he was, hanging his beloved pictures on the wall, dreaming of her being as close to him as the shiny papers adorning his peeling wallpaper._ Today_ was the day. It was 4:30 p.m. She would be home from school. It was Thursday. She would be at the park.

She would also be with those_ boys._

Donny bristled in annoyance, just thinking about how they would be rubbing all over her, like filthy cats in heat. The first day he'd seen her with those two hadn't been a pleasant one. The dark-haired boy and the blond one seemed to be with her at all times. While the blondie gave her brief reprieves on most days, the other behaved as if he was glued to her hip.

Donny_ hated_ that one. The guy's face was agonizingly familiar, but he couldn't recall where he'd seen it.

Why should he care? All that mattered now was that the boy wanted what belonged to Donny. That was unacceptable.

He sent one last lingering glance at the collage of his princess, before heading out the squeaky door of the motel room. After pulling the customary hood over his head, Donny began jogging towards the woods. No one paid him any attention, as usual. That was how he preferred it. He didn't need anything getting in the way of seeing Cassidy again.

Staying out of sight became second nature to him. He loved the liberating feeling of running and kicking up torrents of leaves behind him. It would take roughly ten minutes for him to reach the woods of Spinning Park.

Once there, Donny loped to his tree of choice and leapt up onto his favorite branch. He could see the entire park from there, but no one could see him.

She would be by the basketball court; a long, concrete slab occupying two goals and faded white markers. With the weather warming up, it seemed that was the sport of choice for the males of the area. Donny saw no point to it; the incessant bouncing, tossing, and dribbling. It was roughhousing, smack talk, and little else.

He became eager when a head of fiery hair came into view, though his excitement was only slightly punctured by the two males flanking her sides. Dark-hair on her right, Blondie on the left. If he wasn't so disgusted by their presence, their interactions would be almost amusing. They always seemed to be in some kind of competition for Cassidy's attention.

The only one unaware of their battles was the girl in question, and that pleased Donny immensely. Of course, _his_ princess would never go for guys like them. The tall, popular, athletic types that made his life miserable in public school only got worse with age. She surely wouldn't give them the time of day. They were nothing special, after all. They weren't _like_ her, therefore, they weren't good enough for her.

Donny watched carefully as her troublesome companions were called onto the basketball court by the other noisy, sweat-dripping hooligans. Cassidy waved for them to go. "Make me proud!" She laughed, mirth twinkling in her jade eyes. Donny sighed at the sound of her voice. She was always so nice. Even to those toadies.

The two boys smiled at her, before following the advice and jogging onto the cracked pavement. The game broke out at once, testosterone raining down like hailstones as the dark orange ball sailed back and forth, across the court. Donny greatly preferred watching Cassidy than the modern Spartans clashing on the concrete arena.

She had plopped down on the ground, picking at dandelions and cheering every time one of her sidekicks swished the ball through a hoop. Donny was sure they were competing against one another more than they were against the opposite team.

Within half an hour, much to his gratification, Cassidy became rather bored with the ongoing athletic warfare. She was lying on the ground, throwing grass up in the air, letting it rain back down on her face, and comically spitting the blades out whenever they got into her mouth. Could she become any more enticing? Donny didn't think so.

His interest peaked when she leapt up from this activity, glancing at the game behind her once more, before making her way over to the playground instead. The competitive boys didn't seem to notice her departure, and that looked to be her intention. Donny's heart thudded. The playground was closer to him. The rapid breeze would carry his scent to her within moments. _Yes._ This was what he wanted.

Sure enough, as Cassidy casually stepped onto a yellow seesaw and agilely slid across it, her head jerked upwards. Donny watched her carefully inhale, his head spinning with excitement. Her green eyes sharpened and narrowed. The predatory expression that flitted across her face exhilarated him.

Before Donny knew it, he'd leapt down from his tree nook and landed silently on the ground. Her face twitched as she stepped closer to the woods. He heard a slight growl escape her lips, and it thrilled him to no end.

_Wanna play? Wanna play? _He thought, buzzing with hyperactivity.

She stiffened and her eyes shot to his spot in the foliage. Did she hear him? Could she see him? _Let's play!_

With that, Donny lunged forward, breaking through the thorny bushes and shrubs and onto the bright green grass. He sprinted towards her on all fours, his powerful arms and shoulders propelling him easily. Cassidy's eyes widened in shock and she stumbled backwards. Her bright hair fell messily into her face as she yanked herself back up and ran.

_Run, run, run as fast as you can…_He sang internally, delighted at the chase.

She looked back at him, over her shoulder, as she sprinted. Her eyes were round, dilated, and assessing. He gave her an elated grin. She paled.

She was so swift on her feet, like the fastest of ballet dancers, but powerful and predatory, like a wild feline. She skidded around a vacant gazebo, bounding over the concrete and pressing forward. Donny followed close behind, thrilled at their game. He hadn't had so much fun in years. He wished she would smile. _She must be competitive, _he reasoned._ All the more fun! _

She seemed to be leading him to the other end of the park, away from the rowdy barbarians bouncing around that orange sack of air. _Good._ He certainly didn't want to include those_ cavemen_ in his game with Cassidy.

She was extremely fast and agile, he knew. Catching her wouldn't be easy, but wouldn't she be impressed if he _did_? Where she was swift, he had power. He was stronger than her. Perhaps she sensed that as well? If he caught her, he would win!

Cassidy vaulted over a slide and landed on the mossy ground that circled the park's little duck pond. The birds shot off into the air frantically, as if they expected to be eaten for supper. He saw where she was headed. The bridge.

It stretched over the edge of the small waterhole, tadpole-infested water one side, the grassy park on the other. The bars of the bridge were close together and just a shade short of being rust-colored. Did she hope to lose him in the woods on the other side? She could, with her quick feet. No, that wouldn't do at all. He needed to impress her, not lose on the first try!

That in mind, Donny took a running leap towards the slide she'd jumped over, propelling his body off it and sailing yards ahead. He was careful to land in front of Cassidy, rather than crushing her to the ground. He couldn't stand the thought of making her upset with him.

"_Got you._" He managed to grind out, his voice gravelly from the chase.

She toppled backwards, gripping the railing behind her for dear life. Her jewel eyes were the size of moons, staring at him without wavering or blinking. It was like she could see right into his soul. He shivered, only feet away from the girl that ruled sovereign over his dreams; the ones in his sleep and his waking reveries.

_Princess..._ his tongue was like lead in his mouth.

Her button mouth parted, though it seemed like she was struggling to form words as well. She gripped the rail behind her and sucked in a breath.

"I don't want to fight you." Her voice quivered, as she stared straight into his face, shadowed by the setting sun.

_Fight? No, no.__I don't want to fight!_ Surely that wasn't what she thought of him. He couldn't find the words, but he shook his head vehemently.

She flinched slightly at the movement.

_Why?_ Was she upset that he'd caught her? He only wanted her to be impressed!

"Let me go... I need to go." She continued, her gaze tracing his huge stature and broad shoulders that blocked out the sun, finally landing back on his face.

Self-consciousness consumed Donny. He knew how he appeared to her, enormous and deformed. It was probably a shock to see him like that, but she would look past it, he told himself. She would!

"_Stay._" He rumbled, leaning up to his full height. He dwarfed her in comparison. _Stay with me. _

His pale blue eyes bore into her bright green ones. They stood absolutely still, in that moment, as if they were staring into each others minds and could see _everything_. It was an out-of-body experience; his psyche grasping for hers in the slippery, imaginary channel between them.

Cassidy's wide eyes began to waver and her hands trembled against the railing behind her. Shock registered in her expression.

"What_ happened _to you?" She whispered, voice breaking, like her throat was being constricted by tightening noose.

He leaned closer to her, merely inches away. He breathed in the same air she did, exhaling in unison. "What happened to _you_?" His voice was rough from neglect, syllables running into one another and dipping messily. It didn't matter. She understood him.

Cassidy fell back onto the bars of the bridge, staring up at him in disbelief. Her breathing accelerated; he could see the overwhelmed emotions flitting through her unfocused eyes. "I don't know…" She choked, "_I don't know_."

High with courage, Donny stretched a gnarled finger out and pushed a messy clump of hair behind her ear. He didn't think she noticed the contact. Her fair skin was white as a sheet. She stared blindly into his chest.

"_Come…_" He hesitated, trying to form the words with his clumsy tongue. "Come with me?"

"Where?" She asked expressionlessly, unmoving like a statue.

_Away_, he wanted to say. Somewhere where only she and he existed. Somewhere they didn't need to hide what they were. He couldn't make the words come out, because another voice broke through the silent evening air, echoing over the wide expanse of the park.

"Cassy! Where'd you go? It's time to leave…"

Donny barely suppressed his growl. It sounded like the blond boy. Cassidy abruptly broke from her daze, snapping her attention towards the direction his voice traveled from. Her blank expression turned to panic, as her eyes darted from Donny to the hill they could both hear Blondie treading over.

She didn't want the boy to see him? Possessiveness rippled over Donny as he glared at the incline the subordinate human would soon climb over. He was tired of sharing her! Why not put an end to that now? He could get rid of both boys in one clean sweep.

He sensed worry radiating from her in waves, as the blond neared, and Donny felt his resolve dwindle. Hurting them would upset Cassidy… he didn't want to make her upset… he couldn't bear it if she was angry with him.

_No_, he decided. He wouldn't touch them. He _wouldn't._ Even if they disgusted him and put their hands on what was his. Not today.

Donny raked his eyes over Cassidy one more time, memorizing her features until he could be so close to her again. She met his eyes warily. He didn't understand the rapid fire emotions flitting through her gaze, but he _needed_ her to know.

"Soon." He said, making the word as clear as he could manage. "_Soon_."

Her expression tightened. He touched one of Cassidy's stiff hands with his own, staring into her eyes, then leapt from the bridge and onto the grass, loping back into the woods and disappearing from sight.

_Very soon, Princess. _

_I will take you away from this place and you will be mine. _

* * *

**Fin! (For now... ;)**

**Thanks for reading!**


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